Aficionados of Andy Cabic's caravan may already be hip to many of these covers, having possibly heard the touring band assembled for To Find Me Gone playing from this very songbook during their past few visits to town. The laidback layered harmonies on Elyse Weinberg's "Houses" betray relations to Gary Louris' Vagabonds sessions (on which Cabic guested, and with whom the Vetiver live band has toured and backed up), while Vashti Bunyan sleepily tackles private-press little-known Dia Joyce. Includes Cabic and company's take on Loudon Wainwright III's eminently repeatable "The Swimming Song".

Domestically available after a two-month wait on this side of the pond, much has already been made in the British press of the collaboration between this brassy Welsh belter and producer Bernard Butler, garnering many comparisons to Mark Ronson's success with Amy Winehouse. Even though Duffy has yet to foist any equivalent personal drama on the public, don't hold that against her, as Rockferry's ways may be less in-your-face, but similarly borrowing from classic soul songstresses while putting a contemporary, accessible pop spin on it all.

The Numero Group's second installment in their Good God! series (ever-cryptically displaying such info on its sleeve in Hebrew only) finds Chicago's intrepid soul-seekers shedding light on South Side expats Charles "Hezekiah" Blackwell, Thomas "Yehudah" Whitfield and John "Shevat" Boyd, all converts to Judaism led by Garveyite Ben Ammi Carter to move first to Liberia in the late '60s, then to Dimona, Israel in the early '70s, tracking Old Testament gospel soul as The Soul Messengers along with backup women's choir The Spirit Of Israel and Shevat's son's "kid group" The Tonistics.

Jazzman follows the successes of such series as Sister Funk and The World's Rarest Funk 45s with another considered compilation of the hard-to-find, this time focusing on their namesake genre. James Tatum's "Introduction" kicks it off with a cool, Oliver Nelson-style horn chart, but the Persian zither of Lloyd Miller's "Gol-E-Gandom" soon takes us into the out and exotic, with other unexpected flavours including the funked-up African choir on Mor Thiam's "Ayo Ayo Nene", the baritone narration recounting The Positive Force's tale of "The Afrikan In Winter", and Frank Derrick and Ronnie Boykin's forays in 7/8.

The third EP featured this week (!), this domestic debut (produced and co-written by Bjorn Yttling of Peter, Bjorn and John) packs the most pop punch of the lot, as Li uses its 15-minute format to best briefly state her case and make a memorable first impression. Bolstered by production with a spirit similar to Hanne Hukkelberg's kitchen-sink style or Gonzales and Mocky's work with Feist, "Little Bit"'s steel pan-like mandolin and the subtly whacked sax, trumpet and flute in the backgrounds of "Dance, Dance, Dance" and "Everybody But Me" prove creative enough to almost upstage their star.

Off to a galloping start, Alex Turner and Miles Kane's collaboration is anything but understated, with enough 'cinematic' twang, hall reverb and string parts (conducted by Owen Pallett) to suggest that the boys could be itching to escape said age for its 35-minute duration. Admirers may well enjoy Turner indulging his inner Walker Brother, but considering this project's clear ambitions, the arrangements often hang like window dressing; most of these songs could easily be reconfigured as Arctic Monkeys numbers. Still, if there's room for both The Raconteurs and The White Stripes in this world... 

A 32-minute mini-album that sees Kieran Hebden stretch out and flex some tech-house muscle, our man Four Tet sets his jazzier inclinations to the side (for the most part--his trusty swinging cymbal work does crop up for a spell near the end of "Ringer" proper, while "Wing Body Wing" shakes off some drum rolls under the four-on-the-floor), possibly setting his sights on the revered likes of Carl Craig, and holding his own in that big-room arena admirably. File next to Autechre's Quaristice as more revitalizing '08 IDM on the artist's own terms. Break out your glowsticks, and catch that shuttle bus!

Another slim, murky-green, 4-song stopgap EP like Prospect Hummer from AC's FatCat years, Avey Tare's vocals dominate even more than on last year's Strawberry Jam, singing lead on every tune. The title track zips past in hyperactive waltz time, its sampled cutups and crammed melody the closest thing here to Jam, while the rest of the sequence loosens up and cools down with rhythmic guitar delays on "Street Flash", the quasi-Indo "Cobwebs" luring the listener "out in the night", and ambient gurgles with piano that plays out like one of Tare and Kria Brekkan's side-project cuts for finale "Seal Eyeing".

Presumably named after that yawning 10-year gap between albums, "Silence" commands with rolling toms and a confounding 15-beat figure. Adding hues richer than remembered to tunes otherwise fitting into their sound of old ("Hunter" and "Plastic"'s distorted interruptions; "Small"'s Deep Purple organ wheeze), the band also delves into out-and-out new territory, getting their feet wet with the to-a-tee Silver Apples homage "We Carry On" before back-to-back 180s on uke ballad "Deep Water" and industrial drumpad pattern "Machine Gun", an act at their stark and versatile best on both.

With ?uestlove reportedly forcing Kamal to lay off his trusty Fender Rhodes and stick to his synthesizers, Rising Down is at very least one sinister-sounding collection. Fela's "Mr. Grammarticologylisationalism" gets flipped for "I Will Not Apologize", making the high guitar sound like downhome picking and G-funking up the organ solos. Maybe more compelling than the actual songs might be the messy incidental bits left for us snoops to scrutinize, namely the screaming or confiding (but always frustrated) phone banter bookending things, as well as forty-second backwards-masked "Becoming Unwritten", its snare dragging across the beat like a junkyard chain.

Hearing the blog-ballyhooed Swede acting hard and taking on R&B "realness" on most of these tracks is ridiculous no matter how you slice it, unfortunate since when this woman ditches the Don King skits and Prince pottymouth and goes straight for the pop jugular as on Kleerup collab "With Every Heartbeat", she's bubblegum diva supreme. (Speaking of "Heartbeats", it's all too sadly expectedly cookie-cutter of The Knife to have their turn at producing Robyn, "Who's That Girl", sound just like an imitation of their aforementioned. Since most of this came out in '05 on import, though, this is all old news to fans.) 

Local synthpop oddballs Pony Da Look (named after an ex-roommate of theirs and ex-employee of ours, if you're so curious) resurface to find themselves now signed (along with Will Currie & The Country French) to longtime friends and supporters Sloan's revived Murderecords imprint. Number-one-fan Chris Murphy goes so far as to call the ladies' songs "witch music", and he's not far off, with the rest of the coven often chiming in to chant along with or against Amy Bowles' high-camp, bug-eyed brogue.

Whereas her self-titled '06 debut long-player came off like a demure girl-group of one, there's a presence lording over Sarah Assbring for her El Perro Del Mar persona's second CD, making the music even airier as the skies widen to bring in the Gothenburg Symphonic Choir and church organ as recurring components; even some massed recorders refresh the congregation on more than one occasion. With all these new vestments sanctifying the sparseness, Assbring's intonements seem both sadder and more hopeful, a sentiment succinctly put in "Into The Sunshine"'s wishes to "go back into the sun."

As unshakeable as Coldplay comparisons continue to be when it comes to Guy Garvey's default croon, Elbow's keen ears in the studio keep them a cut above, toying with touches like opener "Starlings"' startling orchestral hits that jump out of a burbling bed of arpeggiated triplets, or "Grounds For Divorce"'s gospel-blues tinge. Although it hasn't yet been singled out for UK chart action, the group'd be wise to let "Weather To Fly" out in the open, a song light and catchy enough to hang chorusless for as long as it pleases.

In the six years since Billy Bragg's last album of new material, fans have been tided over with retrospective repackagings including a greatest hits/B-side set, two boxed volumes, and remasters-plus-bonus tracks of his discography. With the Blokes back in tow (and another titular nod to Colin MacInnes), Bragg's politics are mostly personal here; many songs address problems of love and faith that could be just as easily directed at one's country or culture as to one's partner. However polite the production might get, there's an honesty that's always plainly sung, outward-looking and rarely overreaching.

Although Rolling Stone wishes that "all guitar bands were smart enough to rock out this fast", to these ears the Newmarket foursome's first full-length foray best tackles its slower material, tracks like "The Harrowing Adventures Of..." and "Listen To The Math". The former spaciously stretches out in range as well as tempo with glockenspiel, acoustic guitar, stomps and claps set against cello and low baritone backups, while the latter puts mellotron washes over cymbal splashes and snare snaps before the requisite rock-out.

Gracefully grizzled, these Nassau St. knights return, touring with Castlemusic, whose backup cameo streak continues on "New King". Doug MacGregor's soul snare's still there on leadoff single "Hard Feelings", as on the 7/8 but elegantly three-chord "Brother Run Them Down." Will Kidman's keys give levity in the fluctuations of "Trans Canada" and "Credit River"'s phased swoops, the latter one of Bry Webb's most parable-like lyrics yet, while Steve Lambke sings lead once here, the Leslie-filtered "Shower Of Stones". Dallas Wehrle's ever-eagle-eyed art is strengthened by their A&C alliance, as the fold-out flyer attests.   

As two of the 'teenaged' subjects of Saturdays=Youth's booklet photo shoot get introduced in "Kim & Jessie", M83 remodel John Hughes anthem mainstays like Simple Minds and The Psychedelic Furs in sleekly sincere, high-fashion form, while Morgan Kibby's vocals on "Skin Of The Night" and "Up!" stay '80s for full-blown respective Cocteau Twins and Kate Bush nods. Few Loveless-loving groups give those cooing keyboards a try, so it's notable that Anthony Gonzalez puts them in his palette, popping them up in JAMC-simple I-IV form on "Graveyard Girl", and the floor-tom pound of "Highway Of Endless Dreams". 

It's easy to only ogle A. Newcombe's uglified track titles without paying much more mind ("Who F*cking Pissed In My Well?"), but the songs speak for themselves, often in contradictory tongues (ie. the artiste-ic austerity of solo piano piece "We Are The N*ggers Of The World", [apocryphally?] written at 9 years old). The ostrich guitar pecks on "Infinite Wisdom Teeth" and jawharp 'n' Marrakesh drums in, uh, the one about the well are swell, but the BJM's best served dipped into their baked bread and butter with some downer breakbeats and gauzy swirl, as on amorphous heaver "Who Cares Why?".

"Free Will"'s languor settles you in softly, its slow pulse, sizzling cymbal pads and massed Antonys letting you off easy before the clavinet, horns and disco-string strut of "Hercules Theme" throw you to the dancefloor, that drum kit and bass style giving away the DFA's participation in this project, however gladly subjugated they may be to head Herc Andy Butler. "You Belong" bounds with sounds uncannily jacked from Kevin Saunderson's early-'90s crossover playbook, and the inversions of "True False/Fake Real" couldn't be more apposite--they know you know they know it's both, bashfully full-bore.